


No Dawn, No Day

by t0bemadeofglass



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: 30 Day Dark OTP Challenge, Alpha Sif, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Bondage, D/s, Dark!Amora, Dark!Sif, Dirty Talk, Dom!Amora, F/F, F/M, Face Slapping, Femslash, Fingering, Genderbending, Genderbent!Sif, Gratuitous use of sex magic, Implied Non-Con, Minor Bloodplay ch. 3, Non-Con Warning Ch. 2, Omega Amora, Oral Sex, PWP, Rituals, Sub!Sif, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, a/b/o dynamics, gagging, some porn without plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-01-27 14:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1713236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For ActualOdinson's 30 Day Dark Fandom/OTP Challenge because I couldn't just let myself do one couple. A collection of 30 short ficlets and one-shots revolving around, but not always exclusively, Sif and Amora.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 23 - Dirty Talk

**Author's Note:**

> As with the first I'll give the same warning: some of these are gonna be hella dark. I'll give a warning before each chapter when I can, but just to get that out there. Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoy!

“You are absolutely gorgeous like this,” Amora purred, stepping around the bed to get a better view of what she’d done.  “So lovely.  I almost feel jealous,” she admitted, letting out a throaty laugh as she leaned over to trail her index finger across Sif’s thigh, the bare skin rising in goosebumps as the dark-haired woman watched Amora move.  Her eyes were wide, and whatever she might’ve said in response was cut off by the cloth shoved in her mouth, though it sounded very near a plea.  For what, though, Amora was allowed to guess.  She paused once she reached the other side of the bed, the clinking of the chains connecting Sif’s ankles to the bed posts sweet music, and the moans that Amora’s next touch to the inside of the warrior’s inner thigh were ambrosia.  She moved her hand further upwards, feeling the traces of slick as she neared Sif’s core, easing her finger into Sif’s opening with little issue.  The woman’s back arched as Amora pushed, perhaps a little more forcefully than strictly required.  

“Do you want me to fuck you?”  She asked, voice silky soft as she bent further over the bed, holding herself with one hand on the mattress as she pumped her finger slowly in and out of Sif.  

“Mmfs,” Sif could barely speak as Amora worked, though the moans were words enough for the enchantress as she worked in a second finger.  

“Do you wish me to spread you open, to bring my mouth to your cunt and lick and suck you until you fall apart beneath my attention?”  She pumped a little harder, lifting her wrist so she could angle it differently.  She knew every sweet spot Sif had, and the attention only made Sif’s hips grind into her fingers, driving Amora deeper into her.  “Do you want me to stroke your clit with my tongue?”  She brought her thumb to the slick nub and circled it slowly, tauntingly.  “Or shall I get one of the toys you’re so fond of, Sif, dearest Sif, and fuck you raw until you cannot hope to take it anymore?  I should very much like to hear you scream my name to the Norns, to hear you beg beneath me.  The noble,” she thrust harder, her eyes sharp, words strong.  “Warrior Sif.  Brought low.  Perhaps I ought to have you please me before you are allowed more pleasure.”  

Sif’s eyes snapped open as Amora began to withdraw her hand from her center, leaving her crooning and whimpering for more.  She was a sight indeed, a sheen of sweat covering her body as she begged nonsensically from behind the gag, and Amora felt her own need growing with the sight of the wanton woman beneath her.  Soon, very soon, she promised herself, easing onto her knees on the bed and crawling upwards.  Her clothing melted away, and as she came to kneel just above Sif’s head she reached down to slip the gag from her mouth.  Not that Sif was given a chance to speak before Amora’s cunt was pressed down onto her lips, Amora’s hips grinding a motion that was unforgiving at best, and would give Sif a hell of a crick in the neck as she angled her mouth for a better position.  Her tongue pressed up, swiftly into Amora’s slit, devouring her as Amora shuddered and shouted in her surprise, palming her own breast with one hand as the second concentrated on the newest spells she’d picked up.  She reached down to tug at one of Sif’s nipples, and the contact, magnified ten fold with the completion of the spell, was enough to make Sif stop short and shout into Amora’s skin, gasping for air even as the enchantress ground further, not stoping until she felt Sif’s tongue press to her soaked lips and swallow the taste of her deeper, nose pressed against the v of soft, gold curls between her legs.  

“Oh you’re going to have to do much better than that.  You wanted to come so badly,” Amora said, now taking the woman’s other nipple between her thumb and forefinger and tweaking it until Sif near came apart beneath her, hips grinding upwards yet finding no friction, no release.  Nor would she  “But you don’t get to come until you make me scream.  Come on now, I don’t have all day.”  


	2. 8 - Evil!Characters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check the notes at the end for the trigger warning before this chapter

Amora’s lithe fingers flitted over the words in the old book, doing her best to translate them as swiftly as she could.  There wasn’t much time, hardly any if she was being honest, and if she was as good a sorceress as she claimed to be she might’ve translated it long before she needed it.  As it was, however, her Old Speak left much to be desired when it came down to the moment of need, and her eyes were skipping words as her ears worked to pick up the noise of the invaders as they made their way through the village.  There had been no warning outside of the cry from the goat herders seconds before they’d been slaughtered, and from then pandemonium had reigned.  Outside women shrieked as sword met flesh and, in the rare case, steel, but few of the villagers had the means or know how to defend themselves.  Amora tried not to consider that the only thing they would be doing would be lending what little steel there was to the advancing enemy.

Amora was little use with a sword, but words?  Words she could be good with, and words would help.  She hoped.  So long as she got the translation correct.  She flung her free hand out, clasping her fingers around the neck of a thin bottle just to her left and pouring the contents out into her other hand, trying to force herself not to shake.  There wouldn’t be time to collect more herbs and she needed as much as she could get.  Snagging the book and bringing it down to the ground with her, she made a small mound of the dried herbs on the dirty floor of her home, divided them up into runes and tried to make them as distinguishable as possible, a far more difficult task than it ought to have been.  Dammit, why could she not concentrate?  She pushed a strand of blonde hair from her face and tried again, willing her concentration to hold.  The words came out of her mouth shaky and half-formed as she used the rest of the herbs to encircle the others, spreading them out as thinly as she could manage.  This would work, it had to.  She took a breath as she rose to her feet, grabbing one of the few candles lying on her work space and the flint she used to light them, though she could hardly manage it this time.  Her palms were too slick, even as she swore and wiped them on the sides of her skirt.  

“C’mon, please,” she begged, hearing the screams and shouts and pleas from outside growing closer.  Closer.  

The candle had just burst to life as the door to her home burst open.  No!  She needed more time!  She was shouting then, trying to read what the book said, refusing to take her eyes from the page even as she heard footsteps coming closer.  She sped through the last few parts and dropped the candle onto the herbs just as arms reached around her waist and hauled her up.  

Nothing happened.  The attackers weren’t spirited away, weren’t even affected, and the woman that had caught Amora was smirking as she watched the herbs fizzle and burn without any effect.  

“Looks like your spell didn’t work on us,” the dark-haired woman said, her eyes bright as she took a look at Amora, fisting her hand in the enchantress’ blonde curls and bringing her closer to breathe her in.  She was tall, tall enough that Amora had to stand on tip toes to avoid the majority of the pain spiking through her skull.  Amora’s fingernails clawed at the woman’s face, snarling her demands to be released, but she might as well have been a fly for all the good it did her.  Sooner than she could blink she was bent over double, her hands pulled behind her back and chains locked around her wrists, before she was turned back around to face her attacker.  

“Who the hell are you, and what do you want?” Amora demanded, tears rolling down her cheeks though now her voice was strong, indignant in her demands.  “We don’t have anything so just leave us alone!”  

“My name is Sif,” the woman said, tipping Amora’s chin up and licking her way up one of the tracks of tears.  Amora shuddered.  “Best remember it because you’ll be screaming it tonight by the time I’m done with you.  You all denied tribute to our cause.  This is what happens.”  

She was dragged by the manacles, the steel biting into her wrists as she tried to dig her heels into the ground.  The fire that had burnt the useless herbs spread without her there to quell it, and as her house began to smoke and she began to cry in earnest Sif gave a harsh laugh.  

“Where are your enchantments to save you and your people now?”  She demanded, pulling Amora harder even as her knees went weak.  Around her blood coated the grass and dirt of the well worn pathways, centuries old and protected, now filled with bodiless limbs and all other measures of depravity, men taking other men and women without shame, or else burying their swords into the throats, heads, or whichever other parts of the body they desired before raiding what little money and possessions were within the small houses.  A great fire had already been started where there had once been their small market, and goats were being skewered on spears by other men before being roasted.  Sif, it seemed, was the only female party to the conquerors, and where she went heads were bowed and words of appreciation spilled from the lips of her men.  Amora spat in her face the quickest chance she got, and was rewarded with a swift slap across the cheek for it.  

“You’ll pay for that one before the day is done,” Sif promised as Amora tasted blood in the corner of her mouth, the blow having split her lip.  Sif’s lips crashed onto hers before she could retort, and the woman kissed as she attacked, with little regard for anyone else but herself, forcing her tongue into Amora’s throat with considerable skill that the blonde hated to recognize.  An arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her tight against Sif’s body, molding her own soft one against the hard breastplate of the warrior, the cold of it forcing her body to react in ways she wasn’t proud of.  She bit hard on Sif’s tongue, tasting more blood, and gasped for breath when her assailant pulled away.  Another slap to the face brought her to the ground, and this time she kicked out at the other woman.  She wouldn’t be taken without a fight, wouldn’t allow herself to be go out in such a disgraceful manner.  She might’ve been weak, but if a woman such as Sif could command legions, then Amora could find the strength to fight back.  

Sif, it seemed, had been waiting for just that.  Without hesitating she caught one of Amora’s ankles and held it tight in her grip, dragging her until she thought her arms might break from the way they were shackled, shrieking as she lashed out with her other, still free leg.  Her skirt ripped and fell away, and the whoops and cries from the surrounding men were enough to make her face burn with embarrassment and shame.  They’d set up tents closer to the burning market, and Sif pulled her inside the largest.  A few furs had been thrown down in the corner, yet aside from that and the large tub in the opposite corner it was bare but for the stave in the center that kept it up.  The same one that Amora’s ankle was chained to as soon as they grew close enough, Sif’s grip tight enough to snap the bone she was sure.  

“Stay here and think about what you’ve done,” Sif said, and her smirk was cruel as she looked down at the dust covered woman beneath her.  “I won’t be gone for long.”  

“Go to hell,” Amora rasped, throat raw and hardly enough air in her lungs to provide power for speech.  Sif just laughed and gestured to the mouth of the tent, where screams from those who were still living echoed.  

“Don’t you understand?  You’re already here with me.”  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sif is a conqueror who hints at raping Amora/forcing her, but no rape takes place. There is also a bit of slapping around and some forceful kissing, but no non-con. PLEASE if this is a trigger do not read.


	3. 6 - Rituals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, I really appreciate it!

Why she hadn’t thought of sooner would forever be lost to Amora as she dragged her knife across Sif’s pale skin in a quick, near painless motion.  The warrioress hardly even flinched, which Amora rewarded with a quick peck on the lips and a tug on the leather collar around the woman’s neck, the only thing Amora let her wear.  “Such a good girl, aren’t you darling?”  She asked, words little more than a hum even though her attention was on the thick red blood coating her knife.  Yes, that ought to be enough.  With expert aim (admittedly thanks to Sif, blast her) she threw the silver dagger into the cauldron a few feet away.  The metal melted, silver and blood joined the other boiling ingredients as the color of it darkened, the scent of copper and sulfur hanging heavy in the air.  Sif’s eyes watered.  She might’ve choked on it if Amora had given her the benefit of making noise.  As it was Amora preferred the company of her own thoughts and little else when she was bent over her spells.  Sif desperately wanted to agree, promise she’d continue to be a good girl if her mistress would just allow her to speak, hum, or do something.  Instead she sat back on her heels and let the blood trickle down her arm, hot and sticky, reminding her of the heat still gathering between her legs.  She loved watching Amora work, loved how professional and passionate and zeroed in on her tasks she became, her intensity gorgeous and intimidating.  

Amora’s gaze turned to the cut still steadily oozing at Sif’s side and couldn’t help but grin as she pressed two fingers to it and brought the red liquid to her lips.  Sif squirmed, the flash of pain from the pressure and taboo of the action made her shift in her position, desperate for friction.  Well, more of it at least.  

“Perhaps another time,” Amora promised before cracking a healing stone over the wound.  While the skin mended itself, Amora’s attention turned to the spell in process, stirring it lazily with a finger, not even seeming to feel the heat of the contents.  Sif watched with wide, eager eyes as long as she was allowed to, before Amora demanded she close them and open her mouth.  The liquid that filled her mouth was scalding, near unbearable.  She would’ve spit it back out if not for the knowledge that it would displease her mistress.  Whatever taste it might’ve had was lost in the heat, and no sooner had it hit her gut, hot and writhing like a pit of snakes, that she felt herself begin to burn from the inside out.  Sif’s nails dug into her palms as she swallowed her screams and squeezed her eyes even tighter against the light threatening to blind her.  Her bones were ripped from their sockets, fingers pulled from her hand and skin slid from her bone and muscle with a white-hot blade.

“Breathe, Sif.  You’re doing so well for me,” Amora praised, though Sif had a hard time seeing how as she arched her back and fell backwards onto the cold, marble ground she’d been kneeling on.  She’d broken her rest by moving and hated herself for disappointing her lady.  Teeth gnashed together, or else bit at her tongue and cheeks till she bled, and still refused to make noise.  The pain only increased, skin feeling as if it were set aflame.  Just as she parted her lips to scream it was over, leaving only the shaking goddess in its wake.  Her breathing became labored, deeper, and raspier than before as she moved her fingers slowly to ensure they were all still accounted for, wriggling her toes to do the same.  A slight breeze passed over her, making her body harden and tighten up, muscles curling as she felt something between her legs stir.  

Her eyes snapped open, mouth gaping as Sif stared down at her--his--now flat, muscular chest, body taut and near as well toned as Thor’s, though Sif’s was more lithe.  Between her thighs--his thighs, Sif reminded himself with a thick gulp--stood a cock, sizable and already half hard in front of Amora’s greedy gaze.  

“Don’t worry, it isn’t permanent,” the enchantress promised when Sif licked his lips in apprehension, petrified that he’d somehow disappointed his mistress when he was a woman.  “I simply wanted to try my new spell out.  Come here,” she beckoned and clumsy, on far larger than normal hands and knees, Sif crawled over, mouth salivating as Amora conjured a seat to sit on.  Her legs spread, revealing that she hadn’t worn any undergarments .  She took a fistful of Sif’s now short and black hair and tugged him all the closer by it, guiding Sif’s mouth to her already soaked core.  

“Get me ready to take you,” she ordered, though her voice was soft.  “If there’s anything but pleasure I will be most disappointed.”  

As if Sif needed any more incentive.  He’d always loved teasing Amora with his tongue, employing the enchantresses’ favorite technique of slowly flicking his tongue across the bud of her clit, lips wrapping tight around it to suckle the nerves until Amora trembled beneath his attentions.  She sighed softly, head tipping back, and the fist in Sif’s hair tightened, craning his neck in such a way that would cause it to cramp soon, but still he worked all the harder.  Two fingers eased their way into her heat, and as Sif pumped them slowly he felt Amora begin to stiffen.  Nearly there.  He went all out from the on, between thrusting his fingers and then his tongue inside, not stopping until she clenched up in front of him.  One of her hands snaked up to her breasts, massaging the ample, soft tissue as her hips rolled with the movement of Sif’s tongue, riding out her orgasm with the softest of moans.  

“Good boy,” Amora said, lips spread wide in an enormous grin as Sif’s eyes flicked up to meet hers.  He pulled away, licking his come-slicked lips sloppily, just as Amora liked, and watched as her body trembled once more.  She cupped the side of his face, stroking it with her thumb before slapping him gently.  

“Get on your back,” she ordered, and without hesitation Sif did.  His cock stood straight up, hard and leaking precome as Amora slithered her way to the floor, kneeling just above it.  The heat from her cunt made Sif want to buck his hips, to enter her and bury himself so deep that he’d never get out.  He understood how desperate Thor got, and barely bit back a whine as Amora took his cock in hand and squeezed the base of it before sliding the head over her swollen, dripping wet lips.  

“Do you want me?”  Amora asked, her full lips pursed as she looked down at him with lidded, lust-glazed eyes.  Sif felt his heart surge forward, his lips and mouth going dry, nodding.  

“You have permission to speak,” Amora promised, rocking her hips so that her cunt rubbed against his shaft.  He gasped and did everything he could to keep from rocking his hips.  

“F-fuck me, mistress, please.”  His voice was deeper and sounded strange to his ears, but he pushed through the odd sensation of someone else’s voice coming from his lips.  “Please--please, I need to feel you around me, want you to make me yours.”  It was all he could do not to reach out to her and grasp her by the hips, swivel his own and drive deep into her.  He could do it.  He wanted to.  Wouldn’t, but wanted to so badly.  

Amora read his desperation and took pity, rotating her hips just so that the head filled her.  A low whine left her lips as her they parted and her head rolled forward, curly blonde hair falling into her eyes.  Sif longed to run his fingers through it but kept his hands at his sides.  He knew better, and soon enough Amora impaled herself on his cock, stretching herself deliciously and letting out a low whine as she started to bounce herself on his cock.  The sensation of her hot, tight warmth encompassing him was nearly more than he could stand, feeling his muscles grow tense as he struggled to force himself to keep from coming.  It was hard.  How the other men managed to stave off their orgasms was incredible, and Sif did everything he could to bring his mind elsewhere, to think of anything other than the way that Amora’s breasts looked as she heaved herself up and down on his thick, long cock.  It was perfect, and he fisted his hands at his side, letting the pain of his nails biting at his palms ground him again.  It was all he could think of doing, and though he moaned and begged her to go faster, even as she shoved her fingers into his mouth to shut him up, it somehow worked to keep himself from coming.  At least for then.  

“Flip me over,” Amora demanded after a blurred ten minutes of pleasure wrought fucking.  Sif didn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms around her to reverse their positions, and at Amora’s request he drove harder into her than before, unafraid to fuck her into the hard, marble flooring as she demanded he go harder, faster, give her more than he’d ever thought possible.  

“Tell me what you feel, darling,” Amora demanded, her words stilted with the pleasure that made her body taut and her breath labored.  

“You.  You feel incredible around me,” Sif admitted, his muscles tensing as he fucked harder into her at her request.  “You’re so soft, and wet.  Wet just for me, aren’t you?”  He asked, his eyes wide and begging her to say he was right as he bottomed out and held her fast to him, grinning internally as she shouted with the pleasure of it.  If he remembered correctly, her g-spot would be hit if he just did this--.

She shrieked and tightened around him so much so he nearly came right then and there, her legs wrapping tight around his waist and digging her heels into his back.  “Do.  Tha--that.  Again,” she demanded, eyes wild before she forced her lips to his and devoured him alive.  He repeated the same movement over, and over again, driving into her until she was screaming into his lips and flying apart in his arms.  He followed her shortly after, unable to stop himself from shaking and coming inside her, spurting hot, warm come into her body.  It was the absolute best, and he let her push him over to the side, rocking and swaying her hips side to side as she topped him once more.  

“You came without permission,” she purred, a twinkle in her eye.  “I guess that means you need to be punished.”  

He tried to look contrite but ended up grinning.  Without another word he pinned his own hands above his head, waiting for her judgement with eager anticipation.  

 

 


	4. 34 - Sensory Deprivation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick little drabble. Just a warning: this is a fuck or die scenario, which makes it inherently dub-con. Thanks!

“Just put the bloody thing on,” Sif growled, her eyes moving from Amora’s trembling hands, to the enchantress herself, whose teeth chattered and whole body had gone clammy and weak.  The poison that had been infecting her system, slowly working its way to her heart, was supposed to only be counteracted in one way: the recipient must break a taboo of their culture, and as Sif was the nearest woman around, Amora had all but begged and pleaded on bended knee to just--just this once--share her bed.  Had it not been for the blackened finger tips reaching out towards her, or the fact that Sif knew there was no way in Hel Amora would ever bend the knee to anyone, she wouldn’t have said yes.  Amora had even gone so far as to evoke the code that Sif had sworn herself to, to protect the innocent from harm, even if that meant fucking them to keep them alive.  Even if it meant it was one of the women she’d done everything she could to avoid.

As it was, if she was going to do this, well, then she was going to pretend it wasn’t Amora but someone else.  Anyone else.  Even Volstagg, if she had to, though she’d rather not imagine what he looked like without his clothing on.

With unsteady hands and a weak voice, Amora muttered the spell, and Sif’s sight blurred significantly, leaving everything to shadows and blobs.  She’d been sure to have Amora swear, up and down, that once this was done she’d have her sight returned to her, but as it was she couldn’t make anything out, not even the hand inches away from her face.  At least the enchantresses’ magic was useful.  

“Don’t speak,” Sif murmured, blinking a couple times to try and adjust to the new, strange situation she’d found herself in, and with a curious hand she reached out to find the woman opposite her.  Without her perfect vision she found it easy to imagine that it was someone else’s curls she wrapped around her fingers and tugged closer.  Their lips met, and Sif pushed her tongue into her partner’s mouth, feeling the woman beneath her shiver and whimper at the warm intrusion, while her partner was quite chilly.  Well, she’d just have to do something about that, wouldn’t she?  Sif had taken many a woman to bed in the past, each compliant, and far too easy for what she was looking for, so when she ran a hand over the other woman’s breasts, and squeezed through the soft fabric of the dress, she didn’t expect her hands to be slapped away.  A bolt of excitement shot through her, and rather than pressing the other woman to the ground she found herself without any clothing, and already on her back before she could blink.  The sky above was a muddled mess of blue and as the woman settled between her legs the sky was blotted out by a familiar warmth and pressure of a woman’s slit, the scent of her arousal filling Sif’s nostrils.  She arched her neck a little, sticking her tongue out experimentally, thrilled to find it met with the same sticky, sweet arousal that her partner was already lapping at, her tongue quick and skilled as it swirled around Sif’s clit.  Not to be outdone, she mirrored the actions, went so far as to angle a finger into the woman’s core and pump her hand in and out as she sucked harder on her partner’s sensitive bundle of nerves.  Above her, the woman shook, and feasted on Sif as though she were a starving woman, bringing the woman near the brink from all the attention in a mere matter of minutes.  Her lover was a talented one.  

Without warning, though she was loathe to do anything to break the pleasure that currently had her moaning and arching her back, she rolled the pair of them over, stopping only when she was on top and the woman beneath her groaned at the sudden whirl and change.  Taking advantage of her confusion, Sif pulled away and slid back towards the woman’s legs, sliding her cunt against the other woman’s.  Her partner shouted, clawed, trembling hands grasping at Sif’s wrists as Sif shifted her hips slightly and caught and rubbed against the woman’s engorged clit with her own, moaning and shaking as she bucked her hips in time with the other woman’s.  Soft legs wrapped around Sif’s torso, the woman beneath her whimpering and keening as she neared the same climax Sif was certainly headed for.  She slicked a finger with her own saliva and pressed it, hard, against the woman’s clit, setting her instantly off.  Her hips bucked without any apparent rhythm, though Sif tried to keep up with them until she was chasing her own orgasm, stumbling head-first off the cliff towards her pleasure.  

Soon as she’d stopped shaking, her vision began to return to her, slowly outlining the otherwise formless colors until she saw Amora beneath her, cheeks high with color, blond curls usually so well kept an absolute mess.  She looked a sight, lips wet with Sif’s arousal, and out of instinct Sif leaned closer to kiss her, taste herself on Amora’s lips, groaning into it as her overly sensitive sex rubbed against Amora’s.  She felt warmer, this time, and when Sif pulled away to look at the enchantress’s fingertips they looked normal again.  

“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was that?”  Amora asked, the strength finding its way back into her voice.  Sif, Amora’s hand still clasped within her own, smirked and rolled backwards until Amora was atop her once more, and Sif moved Amora’s fingers down to her still slicked folds.  

“Not at all, but you can make it better now that I’m watching, can’t you?”

Amora smirked, setting out to prove it.  


	5. 33 - Hate You So Much I Want to Make Out With You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, sorry about the wait, and this is hella rushed, but I hope it still comes off well enough! Thanks for reading!

They’d never gotten on well from the start, though it wasn’t a surprise to anyone.  Sif was all hard edges and bloody knees, stinking of horse and the summer sun.  Growing up with the Warriors Three and Thor as her companions it was almost expected by everyone.  Everyone but Amora.  She’d watch Sif go out riding, sword slung over her back, thick midnight braid of hair slung over her shoulder, and Amora would clench her fists to watch her go from her place in her tower, surrounded by books and herbs, smoking herbs and depths of water that showed her deepest secrets to those with the gift.  Every afternoon Amora would send Sif an invitation to her tower, to go to the market, or forest.  Every day Sif couldn’t be bothered to respond, simply running off with the boys to do whatever it was she thought better suited her.  

Amora’s fury only grew and manifested in retaliation as they grew older.  SHe stopped sending invitations, stopped wasting her time, when Loki told her Sif did nothing but throw them away. Her heart turned from interest to retaliation.  It started simply.  Sif would rant and rage when her favorite hunting knife would go missing, and Amora would use it to carve her own name into Sif’s saddle, to scratch the goddess’ newly made breastplate, and then use it to clean her fingernails when the goddess was looking.  Sif would fill Amora’s wine skin with horse piss, and Amora, as of late, found a way to replace the warrioress’ war trophies with children’s toys.  It appeared to be the last straw, Sif storming into the tower, the door crashing shut behind her, and howling with her anger.  

“You have no right to go into my room and touch my possessions, you imbecile!”  Sif snarled, her face growing red with her anger.  Amora watched her eyes darken, her cheeks flushing and hair disheveled from having ridden her horse so hard and quickly to get there.  

Amora hated how lovely it made it look.  From the golden, fair youth of their younger years to this darker, near exotic beauty.  

“Well you ought to take better care of your things.  How you treat your belongings shows much about how you treat others, Lady Sif.”  She said, dropping into a sarcastic curtsy.  Sif grabbed her by the throat and yanked her up.  Loki would ask about the bruises in the morning.  Their faces were so close Amora could feel Sif’s breath on her lips.  It made her mouth water, blood already singing in her ears from their arguing.  

“You ignorant, pig-headed--omf!”  

Amora cut the last words off with her lips on the other woman's, stealing her breath and whatever other insults she could think of.  Sif released her immediately, but Amora pressed on, shoving the warrioress against the nearest wall.  She’d been waiting for far too many years for the opportunity to let it be cut off so quickly.  When she did finally pull away for air Sif looked a vision, lips swollen, eyes wide and staring at her in confusion, hair a mess of waves and curls.  

“You never gave me a bloody chance,” Amora gasped, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them.  “I had to get your attention some how.”  

Silence.  Then: “Well,” Sif cleared her throat, touching her lips with unsure fingers, as though to make sure it had really happened.  “You did it.  But you hate me.”  

“Are hate and love really that different?”  Amora reminded her.  When Sif’s lips crashed on Amora’s, a retaliation of her own, she took that to mean the woman agreed.  

 

 


	6. 41 - Anonymity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, never written A/B/O dynamics with two women before, so I hope this turned out a-okay! Thanks for reading!

When Sif had agreed to sign up for the Safe Alphas and Omegas Project she’d been, well, low.  And she hated herself for it, hated that in the back of her mind she’d only agreed to join SAOP because Thor had told her it was the best way for a lonely Alpha to find a safe partner without the hassle of actually going out.  There were too many Omegas who needed Alphas to stay with them through their cycles, after all, keep them from doing something drastic.  And for Sif?  Well, it’d been way too long since she’d even though she’d be able to get lucky.  

So when her phone vibrated, the agency on the other line calling her in, she couldn’t help the guilt that tied itself to the wings of the butterflies in her stomach, leadening them.  She felt sick as she drove, even as she floored it all the way to the large, brick building just on the outskirts of the city. There were already a hefty amount of cars in the lot, and soon as she found a spot and forced herself to toughen up--she was already there so she might as well go through with it--she made her way inside.  The woman at the door was kind, thanking her for coming in at such a late notice and offering her a key card. It would allow her into the room that her assigned Omega was in.  She had been debriefed, after all the tests to ensure she wasn’t insane or dirty or unhealthy, about what to expect.  She’d be given a formal excuse from whatever obligations she’d had in order to help her Omega ride out their heat for however long it lasted, usually upwards of three to five days depending on the severity.  Sometimes seven.  Everything they could ever want would be provided, the rooms already set up for the Omega’s preferences but should Sif need anything all she had to do was call down for it and it would be brought to them.  Food was provided, and the amenities were all gracious and well planned out.  To preserve the identities of their clients each Alpha and Omega were assigned a made up name as well as a string of seven letters and numbers to identify them by.  It was all kept secret, of course, from anyone else to avoid any compromising situations that might’ve arisen.  It helped Sif to feel a little bit better, the anonymity.  This wasn’t as if it was their first time dealing with an Omega, even if it was Sif’s.  The Beta she’d dated before had been sweet, but they hadn’t worried about the pesky heats for the time they’d been together.  

The wave of hormones and musk hit Sif even before she got to the room, setting her blood on fire and making her mouth water with anticipation.  The leadened butterflies vanished as she swiped the key card and looked down at the name on it.  

‘Alice.’  That was the codename for her Omega, while her own was supposed to be Sarah.  Easy enough, she supposed, wondering if the Omega’s name started with an A just as hers began with an S or if that was simply a coincidence.  The door opened with a swift ‘woosh’, and if she’d thought that the scent of an Omega’s heat was strong in the hallway it flowed into her and caught her by the soul as she stood there, tugging her inside so the door could shut behind them.  

She had to blink once, twice, to make sure that she’d been assigned to the right room.  The figure on the bed was naked already, prone, with two fingers already swirling her clit.  Her.  Hazy green eyes flickered open at the Alpha’s intruding scent and her lips spread into a wide grin.  

“Oh thank God.  Sarah, right?  Because if you’re not her you’ll do anyway.”  She said, slipping upwards and dipping her fingers into her lips to suck her fingers clean.  Sif stood, transfixed, as the blonde slinked down and off the bed, crawling towards her and nuzzling at the woman’s inner thigh, a high keen leaving her lips as one of Sif’s hands moved out of instinct to rub against Alice’s neck.  She paid particular attention to the spot just behind the left of her ear as Alice made quick work of her pants--and really, Sif should’ve thought twice about them, what was she, stupid?--to try and tug them to the ground as soon as she could.  

“Are you--you’re sure I’m your Alpha?”  Sif asked, gasping for breath as Alice ran one of her hands up to fondle at Sif’s breasts through her bra, mouthing at Sif’s already slicked slit through the doused fabric of her panties.  

“Mhmm.  Asked for one.  Men are too skeevy.”  She mumbled, barely able to get the words out so great was her need to thrust her tongue into Sif.  The dark haired woman’s head tipped back, her hips jilting forward as a long-since missed passion and pleasure ripped through her body, making her gasp.  She hadn’t had pleasure like that in some time and it was near as intoxicating as the musk and desire pouring off of Alice.  

“Didn’t know two women could--.”

“You talk too much,” Alice said, pawing at Sif’s shirt and trying to undo the buttons that lined the front of it without moving her mouth from Sif’s slit.  Sif offered to take over, but eventually grew so sick of messing with it she popped the last three, buttons rolling away as her shirt joined her pants on the floor.  She joined soon enough, neither of them bothering to go back to the bed, not when the floor was plenty comfortable enough, the soft carpet well worn and pleasant enough on Sif’s knees as she buried her head between Alice’s legs, licking one slow, long stripe up her lower lips, savoring the sweet slick that filled her mouth.  She tasted perfect, right even, as though they were meant to do this.  Not having ever done this to another woman, Sif mirrored whatever it was Alice was already doing, going off of the high pitched keens and whines that she was on the right track.  

“More--fingers, please,” Alice begged, releasing Sif’s clit, which she’d been sucking on hard enough to make the woman buck her hips into the movement.  Her last boyfriend had been shit at this, hated the taste and smile of it, but judging from the sweet moans and whimpers coming from Alice she was either an excellent actress (doubtful in such a state as she was in) or else enjoyed it more than enough, craning her neck to get to the right angle.  Sif tipped her hips downward slightly, already slipping one finger into Alice’s heat, slipping past the knuckle without issue and pumping her open slowly before adding a second.  Beneath the tips of her fingers she could feel the engorged soft tissue of the Omega’s g-spot, and pressed hard enough to elicit a scream from beneath her.  Amora’s back arched, her ample breasts pressing against Sif’s torso, and it wasn’t long before Sif managed to flip herself around.  She wanted to see the way the light played in those gorgeous green eyes of Alices’ as she brought her to climax, and as she pressed harder, adding a third finger and grinding the heel of her hand against Alice’s clit, the blonde went suddenly rigid.  Lips panting, her eyes locked onto Sif’s, as though equally determined to keep the contact between them.  Sif’s skin burst into goosebumps, the encounter suddenly far more intimate than she’d anticipated, as though by some stretch of magic Alice could see into her soul, could tug at it as her scent had pulled her inside, and latched herself on without hope of letting her go.  She could feel the tissue beneath her fingertips expanding, Alice groaning and thrashing on the ground as her orgasm claimed her entirely.  

“Again.”  Alice gasped once she finally came down, and Sif grinned as the blonde looked to the bedside drawer, sure that she’d find a couple more fun items in there.  

 

She was paid handsomely for the time that she had to take off of work, and Sif swore it was the best job she’d ever had.  Ever.  The last five days had been incredible, and though Alice and she had had little actual conversation in between the rest and the marathon fucking she, well, she knew her.  

“Can I put in a request for an Omega next time?”  She asked the woman at the desk.  

The receptionist’s expression looked conflicted, a mess of surprise and worry.  “Only if they confirm it.”  

She could only hope, then, that Alice felt whatever it was that Sif had.  

  
  


Three weeks passed and no call, which Sif supposed was normal.  Her partner was only supposed to have one every month, and three weeks did not a month make.  Still, she couldn’t help but think that maybe she’d read things incorrectly, that she’d misjudged.  She’d worried about her supposed request, whether Alice would back it up or not, and did everything she could to put it out of her mind.  She’d still help the other Omegas, no matter what, no matter how.  

It wasn’t until she went grocery shopping after a late night working at the office that bright green eyes caught her attention from halfway across the produce section of the grocery store.  The scent hit her next, that same sweet musk that made her breath catch in her throat as her head snapped upwards;  

Alice grinned at her from behind the apples, winding her way towards the dark haired woman.  Sif felt her heart speed up.  Oh.  So she hadn’t been imagining things but . . . She’d never anticipated to actually see her, for her to be so close she was within driving distance.  The last three weeks felt wasted.  

“Alice,” she breathed, grinning broadly as she pulled the woman in to kiss her cheeks.  That was safe enough, she thought, at least until Alice turned her head so their lips met instead, near melting in Sif’s arms.  

“Amora,” she gasped.  “My name.  It’s Amora.”

“Sif,” the dark haired woman said, without hesitation, locking her lips to Amora’s once more.  She’d be screaming it out soon enough, she had a feeling.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Masterlist of prompts: http://actualodinson.tumblr.com/post/64547472272/30-day-dark-fandom-otp-writing-challenge


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